


the stars are bright tonight (but still so far away)

by Tator



Series: can i be, like, megatron? [4]
Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Misunderstandings, exhausted matteo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21529426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tator/pseuds/Tator
Summary: It was a stupid fight, a stupid fight with aten year-old. It wasn’t worth getting this upset over, but he could hear Michael humming at the table as Matteo was still scrubbing at the goddamn pot that still had some fucking food on it. And Matilda needed to start getting ready for bed twenty minutes ago, which she hasn’t, and Sofia should have finished her school work by now, which she hasn’t, and Matteo asked Michael to clean up his toys before dinner even started, which hehasn’t, and the magazine was sitting right there next to the sink as he scrubbed the fucking pot that still had fucking food on it, and Michael was humming so fucking loud, and-or the one where david has been gone a while and matteo is starting to wear a little thin
Relationships: Matteo Florenzi/David (Druck)
Series: can i be, like, megatron? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551631
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	the stars are bright tonight (but still so far away)

**Author's Note:**

> you can find the original post [here](https://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/post/188940187383/give-us-some-davenzi-as-parents-please-i-miss) :]

The magazine was on the counter next to the sink where Matteo was washing the dishes with water that was too hot, making his knuckles turn an ugly red as the steam wafts up into his face. He scrubs at some of the burnt on food that was stuck to the bottom of the pan with a little too much force than was really necessary, replaying the argument over, and over, and over, and over again, just hearing Sofia scream, _Daddy would let me!_ And Matteo had to take a deep breath at just the memory of it, the way her face was flushed and she pointed around the room as she was yelling, the way that he had to clamp his mouth shut and clench his jaws in a fist to stop himself from screaming back, from yelling something ugly, and angry, and uncalled for, from being just like his father. He swore to himself he never would be like that. He hated that he got so close. 

It was a stupid fight, a stupid fight with a _ten year-old_. It wasn’t worth getting this upset over, but he could hear Michael humming at the table as Matteo was still scrubbing at the goddamn pot that still had some fucking food on it. And Matilda needed to start getting ready for bed twenty minutes ago, which she hasn’t, and Sofia should have finished her school work by now, which she hasn’t, and Matteo asked Michael to clean up his toys before dinner even started, which he _hasn’t_ , and the magazine was sitting right there next to the sink as he scrubbed the fucking pot that still had fucking food on it, and Michael was humming so fucking loud, and-

The door opened, and Matteo looked over to Michael who looked right back at him. 

“Hello?” Someone called out, and Michael’s eyes went wide and he threw himself away from the kitchen table to rush the door with Matilda and Sofia both swooping in from the other room, sprinting at full speed. And Matteo called after them, “Slow down,” only to be ignored. 

The pot he was cleaning tipped and sloshed dirty water down his leg and onto the floor. “Fuck,” he hisses, going quickly to turn the water off and grab at some towels, listening to the screeching near the front door. 

“Papa, Papa,” Matty squealed, tugging David through the door by his fingers. “Look who’s home!” 

“Yeah, sweetie,” he says offhandedly, soaking up the water on the floor. “I see.”

“Did you need some help?” David asks. 

Matteo throws the towel onto the counter. Next to the magazine. “No, it’s fine,” he says and takes another towel out the cabinet to soak up some more water from the floor. 

“Are you-”

“I said I got it,” Matteo interrupts and looks up at David who had Michael on one hip and his duffle slung over his other shoulder. He looked tired, Matteo thought, with his hair sticking up in every direction and his tie half undone. 

“He’s been cranky all day,” Matilda whispers to him like she was telling a secret, covering her mouth with her hand and tugging at his fingers so he’ll bend a little closer to her. 

And Matteo has to clench his jaw tight for a second before breathing out slow through his nose. “You’re supposed to be in bed,” he says, leveling Matilda a look even though he was still half kneeling on the floor with one leg of his pants soaked through with water that smelled like tomatoes. 

“But Daddy just got home,” she whined high pitched. 

“I know that, sweetheart,” Matteo says and stands back up, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes and sigh. “But it’s already a half hour past your bedtime, and frankly, you two are supposed to be brushing your teeth now,” he says, looking at the twins. 

He gets a chorus of groaned, “ _Papa_ ”s, and he narrows his eyes at all of them. “This isn’t up for discussion. Go, all of you,” Matteo said. 

“This is so _unfair_ ,” Sofia screeches and stomps her foot, and Matteo scratches at his eyebrow as he tries to forget the argument they had earlier. 

“Sofia,” he starts. 

“How about-” David interrupts, looking between the two of them slowly. “I’ll get them ready for bed and read them a couple of bed stories?” 

“Oh, _please_ ,” Matilda said, looking at Matteo with wide eyes and her hands clasped in front of her. And Matteo wanted to say no, wanted to say that bed time was bed time, wanted to say that he had already told her if was supposed to be in bed and that should be enough. He doesn’t though. He just sighs. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Matteo says and waves an arm out. “I gotta finish cleaning up.” 

And all the kids cheer, and Matteo has to run a hand over his forehead at the pulsing that was thumping away at his skull. 

“You guys go. I’ll meet you,” David says as he put Michael down and shoves them along to the other room. “Na?” He asks and grips at Matteo’s shoulder. 

Matteo pulls away and turns back towards the sink, hearing the way David’s hand stalls in the air for a moment before dropping down to his side. “Just,” he starts, turning on the water. “Just get them in bed.” 

David walks away, and Matteo tries not to think about how this was the first time he’s been home in a month as he stares down at the magazine on the counter with his bright and joyful face looking towards someone that pointedly wasn’t Matteo, that the kids have decided that Matteo was the mean parent, the strict one, who yells and tells them to do your homework and that they have to go to school when David gets to be the _fun_ parent, that the water was still a bit too hot as he scrubs, and scrubs, and scrubs at the burnt on food at the bottom of the pot that still was so fucking _dirty_ even though he’s been _scrubbing_. 

Matteo suddenly feels like he’s suffocating, like the temperature is far too hot for this house, and he pulls at his collar, soaking it through, as he tries to get some air in his lungs, thinking that _oh god he was becoming his father_. He grips at the magazine to try and get the ideas floating around his head to just calm down a minute, so he could at least get in a breath- just a breath, just one. 

He had to leave. Right now, he decided. And then he swallowed down his panic, his anxiety, his need to _Get. Out._ , because he has three kids in the other room and can’t just fuck off when the walls start to get a little bit closer and closer and closer, and the the faces on the magazine were laughing at him. And he clenches at the pages, just wanting them to stop _laughing at him_. 

He had to leave. 

“Is everything alright?” David asks behind him.

“Yeah, I just-” Matteo says and rolls his neck. “I’m going out.” 

“Now?” David asks and walks further into the kitchen to grab Matteo’s arm and look at him. 

“Don’t-” Matteo brushes him off and pulls back a few steps. “I just. Just for a little while.” 

“Hey, talk to me, Teo,” David says, stepping in closer, and Matteo puts a hand on his shoulder to push him back. 

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” 

“What’s-” David asks, shaking his head, looking around him and landing on the magazine that was crumpled on the counter. “Is that why you’re mad at me? Because- Because of some gossip magazine? You know that stuff isn’t true.” 

“I’m not mad because of some fucking magazine,” Matteo denied as he rushed to the front of the house to slip on some shoes that looked like they were David’s and grabbing a coat that definitely was. 

“Then what’s going on? Why are you so upset all of a sudden?” 

“All of a-” Matteo swings around and ends up leaning into David’s face. “You haven’t been home for a month. _A month_ , David. A month where I’ve been taking care of _our children_. And telling them when to go to bed, and when to do their homework, and that they can’t hang out with their friends, and that they can’t have fucking ice cream before bed because they didn’t eat anything healthy all day. And I’ve been doing that all by myself! And you get to come home, and you’re immediately the good guy after I just-” He stops to swallow. “I haven’t had a second by myself for over a month. I just need a second. Just-” Matteo grips at the door handle and watches as David’s face falls and his fingers flail at his sides. 

He opens the door and walks out. 

Matteo spends an hour wondering around the city and then a few hours at Hans’ place, avoiding the questions about why he was there on a Friday night just after he knew his little nieces and nephews were usually put to bed, a Friday night that everyone knew David was coming home after being on set for so long. And Matteo didn’t have the heart to tell him, to show him the pictures on gossip websites that said David was too good of friends with the lead actress in his movie, to explain the stupid fight he got in with Sofia, to detail the way that he felt like the bad guy in every situation even though he was trying so hard not to raise his voice and yell, to say that he felt like a bad dad because he was just _tired_. 

So he didn’t. He just accepted the beer that Hans pressed into his palm and laughed at the stories he told about his latest woes at the store from the previous week. And he left with a hug and a smile, and Hans telling him he should just talk to David into the hair on his head and a pat on his back. 

He gets back home, and it’s quiet and dark. And Matteo feels like he can breathe, just a little bit, when he sees that the living room is clean, and the dishes are put away in the kitchen, and the magazine was thrown into the bin. He pushes his way into his bedroom quietly to see David curled up in bed on his side with his hand stretched out towards Matteo’s side of the bed, even though Matteo has been sleeping with his face shoved into David’s pillow, trying to chase the feeling of him while he was gone. 

Matteo curls up in front of him to tuck his nose into David’s chest because even if he was the one that snapped earlier, he’s a selfish man at heart and couldn’t bear to keep himself away when David was home, when he was finally right here. David shakes himself awake and curls an arm around his shoulders while the other goes to Matteo’s jaw, and Matteo wraps an arm around his back to pull him closer. 

“Okay?” David mutters into the top of his head. 

“Sorry,” Matteo responds into the skin of his sternum. “For earlier.” 

“I wish you told me. That you felt that way,” David responds as he blinks slowly to wake up a little more and tips Matteo’s face up under his chin.

“Sofia and I got into a fight,” Matteo whispers and looks at the side of David’s nose, not knowing if he could stomach this conversation if he saw any disappointment flicker in David’s eyes. “I told her she couldn’t go to Imane’s house, and she said that you would let her.” 

“I probably wouldn’t have,” David hums and brushes some hair out of Matteo’s eyes with the edges of his fingers, and Matteo almost has to close his eyes at the feeling, not used to this kind of affection in a while and feeling a little bit like he was drowning it in right now. 

“I-” Matteo starts and then stops with an inhale, not knowing if he even wanted to bring anything up in the quiet of their bedroom, not wanting to admit anything too sad when he should feel happy at their reunion, the fact that they were in the same timezone and he could hear his voice in person instead of through a speaker. 

“What?” David asks and brushes his lips over Matteo’s temple. 

“I don’t-” Matteo stops again. “I wish you weren’t gone so long.” 

“Me, too,” David admits quietly. His mouth close enough that he feels the words more than hears them. “I won’t again. Couldn’t even focus I missed you guys so much.” 

“We missed you, too,” Matteo says. “I missed you,” he adds on and leans up more into David’s space.

“I missed you, too,” David breathes onto Matteo’s chin, looking down at his mouth. “We should-” David stops to lick his lips, and Matteo presses himself closer still. “We should talk in the morning more. About this.” 

“In the morning,” Matteo repeats with a nod, running his nose against the side of David’s.

David leans in, and Matteo let’s him.


End file.
